Raising a surviving twin. One mother's journey.

Happy birthday, such seemingly innocent words.

2011-05-13T15:34:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to write a post about the 3rd anniversary of my son's death and also the third birthday of my survivor. I just don't have it in me right now. However, I didn't want the events to pass without saying something. It's always such a loaded time of year. My survivor is growing into such an awesome little girl. I still miss my baby boy and it's so hard to watch my daughter grow up without her twin, but the wound is less raw and my heart a little less heavy.

Having a hard time this month.

2011-04-16T18:49:00.000-07:00

My survivor is turning out to be the most amazing little girl, and I love her and her sister more than words, but some days are still so hard. My son's anniversary is looming and Passover starts in two days and I'm feeling very overwhelmed. Three years ago I spent Passover in the hospital pregnant with twins. Unfortunately only one of my twins survived and this holiday will always be tainted for me. Just one more reminder of what could have been. I want to make a beautiful Seder that my girls will enjoy and remember, but it's just so hard. I thought this year I would reclaim this holiday, push the dark cloud away, but it's turning out to be harder than I expected.

Feeling like a crappy mom...

2011-03-07T18:38:00.000-08:00

I rarely visit my son's grave. It's just not something I do, it's not convenient and honestly I don't really like going. I was running an errand for my husband today and was down the road from the cemetery. I wasn't planning on stopping. What kind of mother doesn't want to visit her son?! I had my survivor with me, so the two of us got out of the car, put some rocks on his headstone, and then stood there for a moment. Being there just makes me feel sad, it doesn't offer me any comfort and I'm never sure what I'm supposed to do while I'm there. I feel guilty for not going, I feel like I should go, it's the only thing I can do for him and I don't. My survivor told my older daughter that we went to visit their brother today and my oldest was really upset that we went without her. Of course I then felt worse, not only have I been letting down my baby, but I let down my oldest by not taking her to visit her brother. Guilt stinks, it really drains me. Do you ever feel like the guilt takes over. I'm not sure how to make peace with the cemetery visits. Anyone else feel ambivalent about visiting the cemetery?

Sometimes the smallest thing can just knock the wind out of you.

2011-02-09T09:40:00.000-08:00

I was looking at some pictures I had downloaded off my camera when I saw it, just a innocent picture of my survivor and my nephew, and for a moment I was back in that horrible place right after my loss. It was my little girl and her cousin standing next to each other from behind. They're about the same height with similar color hair and all I could think about was that should be my twins. My son and daughter, my survivor and her twin. I don't have a single picture of the two of them together. (He was stillborn and delivered 5 days before my survivor so we weren't able to take any pictures of them together.) Earlier this week my Mom made an offhand remark that also stung. We were talking about possibly organizing a family reunion with some cousins who all have daughters and my Mom says, "isn't it funny that [my nephew] is the only boy." It felt like she had stabbed me, real funny Mom. When I called her on it she apologized profusely, but still I guess I expected more from my own mother. I have more good days than bad days lately, but those unexpected triggers still hurt.

There should've been three...

2010-12-20T08:30:00.000-08:00

I can't seem to let go of that feeling. It seems like there's always some reminder that some one's missing. It's the silliest things. Like filling out a form that asks how many children you have. I always hesitate, I desperately want to check off 3, but I don't. It's looking at the two car seats and wondering why there isn't a third. Going to restaurant and asking for a table for 4 rather than 5. Or that my survivor has taken an interest in toy cars and trucks. Most parents of daughters probably wouldn't even give it a second thought, but it makes me so sad. All I can think about is how she should be playing trucks with her twin brother. Whenever she shows an interest in something that is typically a boy toy or activity my heart feels so heavy. I used to occasionally buy my older daughter boy pajamas if they were on clearance, because what's the difference right, but I can't bear to put them on my survivor.

Why do people need to ask how many children I have. I never know how to answer and any answer I choose hurts. It makes me want to scream. I want to go up to strangers at the store and say, please think for a moment before you ask someone how many children they have. You just never know what someone has been through and the pain that question might bring them. The question that hurts the most is when people look at my beautiful daughters and say (without thinking I'm sure), "Oh, just the two girls." That one stabs me in the heart. Most days I just nod and say yes. Other days I might say I have a son too and keep going on my way before the follow-up questions start. Every once in awhile I might tell my story. But, no matter what, it still hurts.

Balance...

2010-12-01T09:51:00.000-08:00

I've been wondering a lot lately whether my survivor understands what she's lost. She seems to be drawn to other boy/girl twins. Is it just a coincidence or on some level does she know. One of my biggest fears is putting my grief on her. My grief is not her burden (or my older daughter's either) to bear. However, I'm not sure how to balance explaining the loss to her without burdening her. I want her to know she had a twin brother, but I don't ever want her to blame herself or somehow not feel whole. The hardest part for me is that we don't even really have any memories to share with her. He was stillborn, other than me, my survivor is really the only other person that got to share some time with him while he was alive. I'm not sure there are any answers, but I sure wish there were. It seems like when you have a stillborn child, like a miscarriage, that you're supposed to pretend it never happened. That somehow you're child wasn't real because they never lived outside the womb.

Wondering about who he would've been...

2010-04-27T20:00:00.000-07:00

Last year at this time all I could think about was there should be two. I was supposed to have twins, a boy and a girl. Two years out, I keep wondering who my son would be now. What would he look like, what type of personality would he have? Would he be big like his older sister, tiny like his twin, straight hair, curly hair, eye color, etc.? I still have questions, but they're different then the early grief stage. My arms might not feel as empty, but my heart still aches.

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my son's death.

2010-04-27T11:08:00.001-07:00

I wasn't dreading this year like I was last year, but the hurt sort of snuck up on me. Maybe it's because my husband (who never travels) is leaving today for a business trip and will be gone until Friday, leaving me on my own for the anniversary. Maybe it's the piece I heard on NPR this morning about grief. Or maybe its that empty place in my heart that should be filled with a little boy, running and laughing with his twin sister.

Luckily my surviving twin has been extra cuddly today, because all I want to do is sit on the couch and hold onto her. I want to hold onto both my girls as tight as I can, because time goes so fast. My pregnancy, my son's death, delivering the twins seems like a lifetime ago. My oldest is finishing up kindergarten and my tiny little preemie, my precious survivor is going to be 2 years old in less than two weeks. Life goes on and while time definitely does NOT heal all wounds, I guess it does have a way of dulling the pain. Some days though, it's not nearly dull enough.

Anniversary approaching...

2010-03-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

As we approach my survivor's second birthday and the second anniversary of my son's death, I feel great ambivalence. I don't feel the overwhelming grief that I felt last year. My son's presence or lack there of is less heavy. However, this in and of itself makes me feel sad. Grief doesn't come with a rule book, which each mourn our losses in different ways, but sometimes I feel guilty. Are the choices I've made wrong, have I not done enough to honor my son's memory? Obviously I will never forget and his loss will always be felt, but I desperately want to move forward. For myself, for my daughters, my husband. Selfishly I don't want him to be part of our everyday lives, isn't life for the living? I don't want my daughters' lives to be overshadowed by their missing brother. He wasn't even here, he was stillborn. We don't know what he would've been like, I mourn the loss of what could have been sure, but I don't know if I mourn him, I never knew him.

My husband and I have chosen not to make our son part of our everyday lives. We have chosen not to have elaborate ceremonies to remember. We light a candle on his anniversary and other significant days in the Jewish calendar, but that's about it. My husband, older daughter and I all feel the loss of what could have been. I think we'll always carrier him in our hearts. I'm not sure yet what my surviving twin will think. I don't know if she'll remember him or feel his loss. She's a happy little girl and I don't ever want to burden her with our grief. I'd never hide the loss from her, but I don't want it to shape her.

I'm starting to feel some peace with our choices, but there's that little nagging voice that says you're not doing enough, you're forgetting about him, what kind of mother are you! How do I quiet that voice? That insecurity that some how we're not good enough. I guess I just keep putting one foot in front of the other. On my darkest days I remember that there are two little girls here that need me, that the best way I can honor my son is to be the best mother I can to his sisters. And, most of all that it's ok to be happy for what I have rather than sad for what I don't and if anyone judges me for that, then that's not my problem. Some days it's a lot easier than others. This year I'm working on letting going of the guilt. Now, I just need to figure out how to celebrate my survivor's birthday and mark another milestone that my son won't reach.

The future?

2010-01-05T19:12:00.000-08:00

Whether or not to try and get pregnant again has been weighing heavily on mind. Sometimes I think I want another baby other times I wonder if I just want a do-over. A chance to get right what went wrong with the twins. Obviously I know it doesn't work that way, but I can't help but wonder if that's why I want to try again. I know many women believe that their subsequent babies healed the hurt and mended their broken hearts, but I'm not sure I can put our family through another pregnancy.

I think my daughters are mending my broken heart. Those two little girls are what sustained me through the darkest hours of my life. When I didn't want to get out of bed or eat or even breathe, I did it because they needed me too. The baby needed to nurse, so I needed to eat. My oldest needed her Mommy more than she ever had and so I just put one foot in front of another and just pushed through.

Not only did my son die, but I lost so much time with my daughters, how can we put our family through another pregnancy. I have so many positive memories of my oldest daughter's first year, the little one's first year is a blur. We're finally starting to get ourselves back together and a pregnancy seems like going backwards to some extent. I can probably list a dozen reasons why another pregnancy is a bad idea, but there's that pull. That pull that I just can't articulate.

We're going to an adoption info session next week. We've been talking about possibly adopting a child through the foster care system. We always thought that we'd have two kids, but when we got pregnant with the twins we opened our hearts to having three. We have room in our hearts and our home for a third child, it seems right to fill that space with a child that needs a home. I know adopting an older child through the foster care system is not an easy road. My first job out of law school was representing abused and neglected children. I have a fairly realistic idea of what we're getting ourselves into. Anyway, that's our dilemma do we take in a child who desperately needs a home or do we take the pregnancy plunge. I'm hoping the answer will come to us.

It still stings.

2009-12-13T19:43:00.000-08:00

I still don't know how to answer the question about how many children we have. We went to a community event tonight where we didn't know anyone. My husband had spoken to the organizer on the phone before, but we had never met her. She came over to introduce herself and commented on how cute the girls were, but of course it didn't end there. She then said, "oh two girls how lucky, are you going to try for a boy?" It felt like a stab in the heart, I thought I was doing so much better. I really wanted to say, we have a son, he died, but I didn't. I just smiled and made a comment along the lines of, oh I think we're done. I wish it didn't hurt so much, but mostly I wish people would think before they spoke. I know this woman did not mean to hurt us, but that's just my point. If you don't know someone very well maybe you shouldn't be commenting on something as personal as procreating.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

2009-10-15T18:17:00.000-07:00

Lots of my friends are lighting candles tonight in memory of their lost babies. To anyone grieving the loss of child, I'm so sorry. It's a road I wish no parent had to travel.

I'm not sure why, but I don't want to light a candle. I do feel that the message needs to get out and that parents should be able to talk about their losses. I think there's a tendency in our society to not talk about death or anything sad for that matter. I think we especially don't want to talk about miscarriage and stillbirth. My own family makes me feel like I shouldn't be talking about my son, that I just need to move-on. That I should just be grateful that my daughter survived. I am so grateful that my daughter survived, but that doesn't make me miss her twin brother any less. You'd think based on my families' response, I'd be first in line to promote Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, but no. I've been trying all day to figure out why I feel this way, but I just can't seem to identify the feelings.

I've been struggling to find a way to honor my son's memory, I've yet to find that outlet. I want to remember him and honor him, but at the same time I don't want it to consume me. I want to move forward from the grief, I don't want it to define me. I want to carry me son's memory with me, rather than on me.

Gratitude for the kindness of a stranger.

2009-06-24T19:20:00.001-07:00

My oldest has been asking to see a picture of her brother, a lot. We've shown her some pictures of his hands and his feet, but she really wanted to see something of his face. We really weren't comfortable showing her the one we had. He didn't look very good since he had passed over week before I delivered him and we were worried it would scare her.

We found a woman that is a graphic artist who retouches pictures of babies in our situation for no charge. She did a beautiful job and we were finally able to show my daughter a picture of her brother. We also have something to show our survivor when she gets older and asks about her twin. The woman does it in memory of her own lost baby.

This journey of mine has brought some amazing women into my life without whom I'm not sure I could survive. I'm a member of a club that no one wants to join, but am eternally grateful for the generosity of the other members. I am so sorry that I had to meet another member, but there are not words to express my gratitude for the gift she has given my family

2009-03-29T18:10:00.000-07:00

We finally went to look at gravestones today. I'm not even sure I can put into words what I am feeling. Picking out a gravestone for a baby is just wrong. I've been putting it off for weeks now, maybe even months. I don't think there's any chance we'll have something ordered in time for the first anniversary.

Approaching the one year anniversary

2009-03-05T14:53:00.000-08:00

I was really disappointed with my son's funeral. I felt like I let him down and was in no shape to do any of the planning. I was recovering from both a vaginal birth and a c-section, my daughter was still in the NICU, I had just spent 5 weeks in the hospital and my older daughter was in desperate need of my attention. I promised myself that I would make up for all the shortcomings of the funeral with the one anniversary. Jewish tradtion dictates that a grave marker be placed shortly before the one year annversary. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to remember him and do what I wasn't able to for the funeral. Except that we are now 8 weeks out and I haven't done anything. This is causing me extreme guilt, but I can't seem to start planning.

Fear...

2009-03-04T08:52:00.000-08:00

One distinct change since losing my son is that I seem to live in fear. Fear of something bad happening to my daughters. It's a horrible feeling. I can't seem to shake it. I know we all worry about our children to some degree, but sometimes this feels, I don't know, stifling, overwhelming. Every time I put the baby to sleep I want to check and make sure she's breathing. If my older one has a cold, I go a little crazy. Is the baby going to catch it, is it going to turn into something worse, are we going to have to go to the hospital? I just want to feel "normal" again. Not worry all the time. Some days, I just want to wrap the girls up and protect them from the world. Yes, intellectually I know that it's not possible. I do let them go out. My older daughter goes to preschool, goes on play dates, climbs to the top of the climbing apparatus at the park. I get out of the house without them sometimes. But what I guess I want back (in addition to my son) is my innocence. You know, that ability to believe that everything is going to be ok. That if I'm a good person, live a good, moral life, than bad things won't happen to me.

My first post.

2009-03-02T09:20:00.000-08:00

I'm not really sure what my plan is for this blog. My surviving twin is an amazing, adorable, beautiful, 9 months old girl. We lost her brother on April 28, 2008 when I was 31 weeks pregnant. I delivered my stillborn son a week and half later. That was without a doubt the worst day of my life. My daugther was born 5 days after her brother at 33 weeks gestation. Remarkably she only had to spend 8 days in the NICU, I on the otherhand spent 5 weeks in the hospital on the antepartum ward. That in and of itself was agony because not only was I watching my son slip away I had a 4 year old at home that I had never even spent one night away from before this. I guess if I have any goals for this blog it's to help me heal and maybe let some other women out there know that they are not alone in this journey.